The Zombies- Odessey and Oracle (CBS Records, 1968)

Leaving CPR training this past Friday, I got into my Honda Civic and discovered that my CD player was showing no signs of life. I tried to push play – nothing happened. I tried to push eject – nothing happened. An error code flashed before my eyes. All attempts to revive the faltering machinery were to no avail. My copy of The Zombies’ Odessey and Oracle was stuck inside the busted player, seemingly destined to an eternity mired in the purgatory of mechanical malfunction. Never again would I hear the dulcet tones of this copy of a musical masterpiece. I reasoned that this was karmic retribution for the time I intentionally ran over a copy of Radiohead’s Kid A with my Ford Escort. I even considered writing a formal letter of apology to Thom Yorke.

More so than any ’60s band save The Beatles, The Zombies laid the template for early power pop with their sublimely-crafted array of beautiful melodies and lush, majestic harmonies. And while they had evolved eons past the realm of simple pop by the time they recorded Odessey and Oracle, said album is the first Zombies title anyone ought to buy. Intertwining the psych and baroque pop genres with the group’s British Invasion roots, Odessey and Oracle is distinctively late ’60s-ish yet utterly timeless. So of course it was released to zero interest from the record-buying public.

Nearly a year after its April 1968 release (and well after the band’s breakup!), the rapidly-tanking Odessey and Oracle was revived by the surprise hit “Time of the Season”. Arguably one of the greatest hit singles of the ’60s, this #3 U.S. smash precipitated a cash-in reissue of the LP. Newcomers to the Zombies experience will be surprised to see that this particular track is the album’s very last song – it wasn’t supposed to be the hit! That there are other, earlier songs that showed obvious hit potential is a testament to the strength of the record. Conceived, written, and recorded at a point in music when the “album” was still a new concept and lesser bands filled out long-players with covers and throwaways, Odessey and Oracle offers a depth of riches that’s quite rare for its time. Just as importantly, it embraces psychedelia without succumbing to its excesses and flaws, its trippy textures and dreamy soundscapes illuminating the melodies, not replacing them.

Having lost their record deal with Decca, The Zombies decided to call it quits in the spring of 1967. Aiming for one last visionary hurrah that would redeem the group as true artists, The Zombies went to CBS A & R man Derek Everett and secured a one-off record deal. And as they say, the rest is history. Recorded cheaply and hurriedly without any interference from producers or label execs, Odessey and Oracle sounds beautifully focused, with the emphasis remaining on the songs and the self-production coming off celestial but not bloated. There are minimal, if any, overdubs, and the sophistication of the material is nicely balanced by a genuine “live in the studio” sound. Making great use of the mellotron, acoustic piano, minor key shifts, and Colin Blunstone’s rich, plaintive vocals, this imploding band with nothing to lose ended up making one of the greatest and most influential long players in the annals of English pop. It’s just such a pretty album – and I don’t think a single LP in all of popular music has ever made better use of harmonies.

And what about the songs? “Care of Cell 44”, the first-ever rock song about a man with a girlfriend in prison, boasts harmonies that Queen probably admired - and one of the catchiest melodies ever committed to vinyl! Gorgeous, symphonic stunners like “Changes” and “Maybe After He’s Gone” hint at the album the Beach Boys could have made after Pet Sounds. “Beechwood Park” is picture perfect psych-pop, but with a decidely English bent – way closer to Village Green era Kinks than to anything coming out of San Francisco at the time. With its peppy feel, circular harmonies, cheeky lyrics, and radio-friendly chorus, “Friends of Mine” brings to mind the Paul McCartney side of the Beatles (which I actually prefer – so sue me!). And let’s be real – “Time of the Season” is the business! What kind of crack were CBS’s UK execs smoking to not be won over upon first contact with this magnum opus of psychedelic soul? Legend has it that Blunstone and guitarist/songwriter Rod Argent almost came to blows in an argument over how this song was to be sung. Thank God Argent prevailed!

So today I started driving to work, and a spring miracle occurred. My presumed-dead disc player had, as if by magic, revived itself over the weekend. I pushed the eject button. The error code vanished, and out popped my treasured copy of Odessey and Oracle, which I immediately snatched and returned to the safety of its environmentally unfriendly jewel case. It will live to spin again, countless times, to my listening delight. So fuck Thom Yorke – Kid A still sucks!

-Josh Rutledge

Lemonheads - It's A Shame About Ray (Atlantic, 1992)

The other night, I went and saw Evan Dando play solo at The Double Door. Before the encore, Nash Kato came out and told the crowd to give it up for one of the best singer/songwriters of our generation. After my 5^th $6.50 Stella, I was willing to go the distance with the rest of the crowd on this one, even though I didn’t think Evan realized that he had played a few of his songs twice! I found that quite endearing, knowing that it was Evan, and he had probably been whoopin’ it up with Nash all day!

I remember getting It’s A Shame About Ray a few weeks before my friend Emily and I went and stayed a weekend by ourselves at her cabin on some lake back in Michigan. Although it was not the heavy rock stuff that I was listening to at the time, I absolutely fell in love with this album. The melodies were so amazing! I instantly picked up my acoustic guitar and learned how to play along with IASAR. That whole weekend was spent listening to this album, raiding Emily's parents' liquor cabinet, smoking cigarettes, playing along to the tunes on an old acoustic guitar, and falling off canoes. Such a great weekend!

This is easily one of those albums that you can put on and play from front to back and throw back on and play over again. I know that I do! I honestly can’t say that there is a bad song on IASAR. Alternative pop near-perfection! Evan’s songwriting was right on the mark when he penned this album, with its witty lyrics and simple-yet-catchy melodies. What’s great is that Evan is a simple singer/songwriter who lays out what he has to sing about and puts it to the perfect tune, whether it’s an acoustic ballad or something with a bit more backbone to it.

IASAR starts out with “Rockin’ Stroll.” When I hear this song, I imagine a baby in a stroller singing this tune in his head. If only babies were that awesome and could sing along with Evan...

“Confetti” is the next track, which is my favorite, since, well, it was the easiest that I could play on my guitar way back on that weekend! And I love the lyrics to this one: “He kinda shoulda sorta woulda loved her if he could’ve.” The music behind the lyrics to this one accompanies it just perfectly…complete synchronicity.

The record label had a problem with one of Evan's song titles, so he had to change it to “Buddy” from "My Drug Buddy", as it refers to him and his drug buddy going out to score. But, Mr. Record Executive, it’s such a pretty song! And it’s just some of the same stuff (they) got yesterday. And Evan loves his drug buddy. You definitely hear way worse these days. He was so 1992!

After a few more drug reference numbers, you get to the last two songs on the album that happen to be covers, the first being “Frank Mills” from the musical Hair. Just Evan and his acoustic. It's such a beautiful version! To me, it really shows his emotional vocal range. “Tell him Angela and I don’t want the two dollars back/Just him.”

Being a longtime artist who finally became popular, I’d be pissed if my big hit were a cover of Simon and Garfunkel’s “Mrs. Robinson.” It's not a bad take at all. In fact, the Lemonheads do a fantastic job of it! But, come on. The people didn’t recognize their other great works like Lick and Hate Your Friends, but now you get noticed for this track? Yeah, I’d go and develop a crack cocaine habit, too. Well, maybe I wouldn’t go that far.

We fast forward to 2010 and see that Evan is still alive and kicking, playing solo gigs, and is still doing the Lemonheads! He forever has rotating members of great musicians who will always tour with him. Notably, on the last tour, Evan had Karl Alvarez and Bill Stevenson of the Descendents/ALL backing him (I could kick myself for missing that one!). He has settled down and found himself a nice model to marry. This past year saw the release of an all-covers album entitled Varshons with my favorite being GG Allin’s “Layin’ Up With Linda.” But that’s for another review.

-Angie Granado-Wehrle

Material Issue- International Pop Overthrow (Mercury, 1991)

Alright, I’m just gonna say it: Material Issue was the best power pop band there’s ever been. Period. End of story. Done. You doubting me, son? Tell me who was better! Shoes? Nah…they were all pop, no power. Cheap Trick? A greater band overall, sure, but not really power pop. Ditto for Big Star. Raspberries? Even their best albums were half filler! 20/20? The Beat? They probably had better debut albums, but after that…not so much. If we go by the textbook definition of power pop, as per All Music Guide (“a cross between the crunching hard rock of the Who and the sweet melodicism of the Beatles and Beach Boys, with the ringing guitars of the Byrds thrown in for good measure”), Chicago’s mighty Ish was not only the genre’s most emblematic band, but also its best.

It wasn’t until its third album, Freak City Soundtrack, that Material Issue captured the hard edge and big rock energy of its live show on record. But for anyone seeking the best introduction to this extraordinary band, International Pop Overthrow remains the mandatory starting point. With the first three songs featuring girls’ names in their titles, and only one of 14 tracks exceeding the four minute mark, the battle plan is clear before you’ve heard a single note. This is classic power pop, and as such it exhibits a perfect simplicity that masks its considerable artistry. Given the familiar melody-driven style and well-worn “songs about girls” motif, it would be all too easy for one to dismiss these songs as formulaic dreck. Some rock critics already have, and as punishment they will face an eternity in a fiery hell, where there are no cute chicks or record shops, and “Party In the U.S.A.” plays 24/7. Sure, it's pop. And no, it didn't overthrow anything. But to sell this album short is to deny the distinct gifts of one of the finest singer/songwriters to ever pick up a guitar, one James Walter Ellison.

With a singing voice so pure and plaintive and unique that it feels like you’re listening to your best friend, Jim Ellison infused these simple pop songs with rare emotional depth and profound insights into the human condition. He was hardly the first man to write pop songs about broken hearts, infatuation, and unrequited love. But I can think of few others, ever, who’ve done it better. His melodies were gorgeous and instantly memorable. His lyrics were touching and truthful and sometimes so unbearably REAL that they could break your heart in ten words or less. And if the pop singer’s greatest task is to summon up all that heartbreak and longing and loss and despair and tortuous relationship woe of a short lifetime and somehow make the listener FEEL it, then Ellison was the king.

Recorded over a two-year period at Short Order Recorder, with Jeff Murphy in the producer’s chair, IPO has the sonic sensibility of a Shoes album. The recording is minimalistic, demo-like, and devoid of the power trio’s live oomph, forcing the songs themselves to the forefront. And what songs they are! Most pop bands would kill to boast a career best-of with as many “hits” as this humble debut. The college radio staple “Valerie Loves Me”, a jangly slice of melancholy as haunting as it is hummable, isn’t even the best track! “Li’l Christine” and “Out Right Now” would have been pop radio smashes if pop radio actually played radio pop. “Very First Lie” starts off like standard ballad fare, then surprises, musically and lyrically, in all the best ways. Listen to “Diane” once, and it’ll be stuck in your head all day.

Material Issue would follow with Destination Universe, a brighter and equally hit-packed gem of an album. And Freak City Soundtrack, with its glammy arena feel, rocks it up without abandoning the plot. But IPO is Ellison’s master work, its tales of love and longing as beautifully rendered as a film or a collection of short stories. Even the funniest lines (“You're only breaking my heart/But that's the very best part” or “And I'd write this down if I only had a pen/And I'd skip the lonely part”) come from a sad place in the aching heart. The painful truth about “Valerie Loves Me” is that she doesn’t love him, and never will, and our protagonist’s only consolation probes the darkest realms of the adolescent heart:

Valerie's lonely in an apartment down the street you know/
And her hair has turned so grey/
But she's so happy, for the memories she has you know/
She can believe in the day when love was on a string/
And she could have that anything she ever wanted/
But she can't have me

And leave it to a soul as wounded as Ellison to catch you off-guard with a sudden, unexpected turn that nails the flawed essence of boy-girl relations:

I'd like to wake up with you early in the morning/
Or stay up late just playin' records on your phonograph/
I'd like to get to know your mother and your father/
Maybe just once pretend to be somebody's better half/
And I would like to tell the very first lie

Considering that Jim Ellison took his own life a mere five years after the release of International Pop Overthrow, there’s the temptation to hear him as a specter, eerily pining away from the great beyond. But there’s nothing spooky about any of the band’s recordings. Ellison sought out to make fun, enjoyable music, and that’s exactly what he did. If IPO is anything, it’s warm, reassuring - its songs reminding all of us who’ve suffered from love’s great agonies that someone out there felt our pain and managed to articulate it so beautifully. Laden with melodies that will never leave our brains and harmonies that could have fallen from the heavens, this is one of those albums that everyone ought to own.

-Josh Rutledge

Danko Jones - I'm Alive And On Fire (Bad Taste, 2001)

I must say if I were a man (and not just any rock-n-roll man), I would want to be Danko Jones. A bad-ass, balls-out, fuck-your-girlfriend-in-your-own-car rock-n-roller! I am jealous of this man, as early in his career, he had the same credo as I believed in when it came to playing: all touring, no recording (I hate to record. Ask my past bands!). Luckily, this man blessed us with not only countless tours, but also multiple amazing albums that made it so hard to nail down just which one to write about when they all bleed sex, confidence, and above all, rock-n-roll…The Mango Kid style!

I’m Alive And On Fire, Danko’s second full-length release in 2001, offers a collection of singles released from 1996-1999. So the best thing about this album is that you can’t clump it together and talk about it as a whole, as all of the tracks just stand out on their own.

It carries, most notably, a track from the first EP entitled “Sugar Chocolate” that as soon as I heard it, I was in LOVE!!! Pure and simple, this is WHITE-HOT!!!

Now if you want some chocolate with your sugar/

Some cream with your coffee/

Some butter with your scotch/

You can call it cocoa butter/

Or you can call it white chocolate/

But, baby, I just call it delicious

For being a three-piece outfit, Danko and Co. push the rock ticket further than most arena rock bands these days. And to see them live puts their recordings to shame! Eight-track studio recordings can only capture so much power that this band has over a crowd. Danko gets on stage, and it’s the best rock show you’ve never seen! Girls are screaming his name, and guys are wishing they had the rock power that he has! It makes me think of what a KISS show at Cobo Hall back in the day would've been like.

A personal favorite of mine off this album is “Cadillac.” Simple drum beat with a guitar riff reminiscent of AC/DC…to the point and no frills (This is why AC/DC are GREAT!!!). And the words Danko offers to you, ”I keep the backseat for lovin’/I like to drive up front/And then we're makin’ out/I keep your boy in the trunk." Of course at this point, he is licking the neck of his guitar…OW!!!

Anyone who doesn’t know who Danko Jones is or own any of his albums needs to get up right now and go to your local record store and buy anything from him! Borrow it from a friend, download from iTunes, or however you kids get music these days! I personally guarantee that you will dig what you hear. If not, come find me, and I’ll convince you face to face that you’re crazy and you know nothing of true rock-n-roll! This is the best export that Canada has sent us in quite some time…besides hockey players. Just remember, as Danko says, “You can call me The Mango Kid, but your girl calls me 'baby' ”.

-Angie Granado-Wehrle

Dwarves - Blood Guts & Pussy (Sub Pop, 1990)

“I wanna get fucked in the back seat of my car."

Those words were magical (yeah, I said it) as they came pouring into my ears at age fifteen through my Walkman. And I didn’t even drive or fuck at that time! After hearing something this amazing, I just had to go see them open for Soul Asylum in a couple of days. Two songs, instruments thrown down, and off the stage they went! And so my love affair with The Dwarves began.

Blood Guts & Pussy: Exactly what do you make of a title like that, and can you even begin to imagine what would come out of such fine fellows who would name an album that? Pure genius is what I think! I compare it to a horror movie when it comes to the timing: anything over an hour and a half is shit.

With just over thirteen minutes, you get right to the point. All fucking around here, literally! “Motherfucker” gives tribute (you can say) to The Trashmen’s "Surfin’ Bird' ("What’s the word?/I’m a motherfucker/Papa-ooma-mow-mow").

Does anyone remember Rhonda's "Up All Night" on the weekends on USA? That's when they would play the “Drug Store” video flashing different drugs and crowd shots for one of your more memorable tunes, 'cause it’s slow enough for you to understand what Blag’s saying.

Nothing before this could compare to The Dwarves. You may claim punk rock ’77 and the Sex Pistols and blah blah blah….But this was different. With the album cover of bloodied, naked women and midgets, they had come to take those three chords of punk and crank them up. With drums pounding with a purpose to destroy. With simple guitar riffs to make you need that drug that was The Dwarves. With words that you would never utter in front of your mother. Summoning tales of drugs, sex, STDs, nuns, girls, and don’t forget about Astroboy! It was their credo: Fuck you up and get high!

Blag Dhalia is quite possibly one of the best front men in the business. Not a large man, but he will beat the crap out of anyone who dares challenge him. His always sidekick, Hewhocannotbenamed, adorned in jock-strap and wrestling mask, provides powerful stage presence without ever speaking a word by just showing you his ball sack! However, under that mask lies a professor who happens to be rather laid back. Yeah, Hewho, I just blew your cover!

This is pure-on hate fuck rock-n-roll! The kind where you would walk out of the show bleeding, bruised, and exhilarated! Listening to it now while writing this makes me want to go outside and punch one of the hipsters outside my house in the face! In my pajamas, no less! At thirty-four, it still instills the same feelings that it did when I was fifteen. I guess I never grew up, or this album is just that great. This is why I will always love you, Blag! My Dwarves tattoo is my testament to why I refuse to grow up and will always be right up front, yelling every word right along with you!

-Angie Granado-Wehrle

Afghan Whigs - Gentlemen (Elektra, 1993)

At seventeen, you think you know everything there is to know about love, heartbreak, and the matters that come in between. Little did I know that some scrawny white boy from Cincinnati could write an album that would explain so much more about how people could tear each other apart in relationships.

The Afghan Whigs were the first band ever signed to Sub Pop from outside Seattle. Their major label debut on Elektra Records marked the beginning of their turn from grunge/rock Midwestern bar band to a new sound that was more rooted in soul, R & B, and raw emotions. Although Congregation was a gateway album to this sound, Gentlemen put that final touch on their change into soul singers, particularly those from the heart.

Emotions abound on this album, whether it's the part of a jilted lover, a cruel battle/relationship that is constantly beginning and ending, a domineering control freak who insists that all actions are in his favor and you are against him, or a tortured soul who will crawl back to you no matter what the cost to forsake all others until his next trick on the sly.

The album reads out perfectly as a diary/story, starting out with its swagger. Showing off as a man who is, above all, a ladies man who can crush you with the power of his cunning wit, oozing lines such as, "I've got a dick for a brain/And my brain is gonna sell my ass to you." Seriously, could any woman resist a man with confidence like that who would have the guts to say that to her?

After a few tracks such as these, Gentlemen turns to the heartbreak, and when this man sings of such, it brings any woman to her knees, taking a man back no matter how dirty the deed done the night before ("If I inflict the pain, then, baby, only I can comfort you"). How perfect! How perfectly evil! To only think what may have happened to inflict those words to another...

The amazing and talented Marcy Mays from Scrawl steps in the main role for "My Curse" and perfectly kills the song as if it were written for her. Perfect in a way to show a woman with the prowess of a man who deserves the agony that she has been given ("Temptation come not from hell, but from above"). When the Whigs' Greg Dulli goes back and does this, it just doesn't do justice in the same way as Mays does.

Of course when you depart into soul, you're going to cover a sweet slow jam from the '70s, and this is what AW do here with Tyrone Davis's "I Keep Coming Back." Dulli croons the magic pleas of a confused man ("I wanna go away/But, honey, I just can't stay/See, I'm your fool/I lost my cool/And I wouldn't lie/But I lay down and cry").

As I think back years later to when Gentlemen came out, I still sit and listen to the perfect melodies that carry these stories. But I also try to think about where that man was at in his own head and heart when he had to sing what he had to say. I have heard the stories of an ending relationship and impressing a "working woman" while wasted out of his mind when he sang half of these tracks at Ardent Studios in Memphis. However it got out, this album will always stick in my mind as the man who broke my heart and crawled back on his knees to me, with the devil in tow, to only do it all over again.

-Angie Granado-Wehrle

The Lurkers - Greatest Hit: Last Will And Testament (Beggars Banquet, 1980)

My initial introduction to these suburbanites from London wasn't through a proper album or singles compilation. An old bud from college had picked up The Lurkers' Greatest Hits Live as an alternate choice via mail order from the Get Hip catalog. The year on the release read 1990. By this point, only bassist Arturo Bassick remained from the '70s glory days. Other members such as vocalist Howard Wall and gas-station-named drummer Esso had long abandoned the punk scene for pursuits like proper dress and steady employment. With Bassick and a bunch of scabs in tow, I was concerned that GHL would paint The Lurkers in the nastiest shade of fecal matter imaginable. Any poop-smeared fears were overcome after the first few chords.

Blending the carefree fun of the Ramones with the earnest chants of Sham 69, The Lurkers '90 instantly made me a true believer. After securing a dubbed tape for myself, I took the C-90 home and popped it in the deck for the first of at least 125 spins. On every play, Bassick's rapport with a rowdy audience elicited hearty laughter. Threatening free-jazz improvisations after someone in the crowd called The Lurkers "shallow"! Dedicating "Just Thirteen" to Bill Wyman! Thanking the 34th member of the band's fan club! To this day, I posit GHL on the short list of must-hear live albums. How do the original studio slabs compare, you ask?


Collecting twelve tracks from the first two LPs (Fulham Fallout [1978] and God's Lonely Men [1979]) and adding six cuts from the 45s, Greatest Hit has Jimmy Buffett-like laughs with its title, but serious students of punk rock know many of these songs by heart. Nigel Moore plucks the bass on most of the selections, but Bassick provides the thump on two of The Lurkers' most crucial A-sides. As the front slice of the first release on the Beggars Banquet label, "Shadow" is a three-layer cake of loss, jealousy and revenge. Not enjoying the sight of his former girlfriend flaunting the affections and riches of a new lover, the jilted John crumbles the good-bye letter and enlists help from a pistol-packing mama ("Jenny said she'd lend me her gun/She knows I'm not well/Then I'll shoot that boy in the legs/When he comes to ring your bell"). Emptying the chamber on an unlucky bloke gives our hero time to place a M4W personal ad in a specialty mag. Though it would be nice to report of a coupling with a lass as sweet as Kate Winslet's character in "The Holiday," John's blind dates star in a fictional film entitled "Freak Show." Perhaps a blurb in a different publication is in order, since the 1977 version of Craigslist UK isn't working for him on Friday nights ("Always out with terminal cases/I don't remember their rotten faces"). John wants to drown some sorrows in a pool of brown ale, but his name is mud throughout the local pubs and hostelries. Should he sip amidst the snickers or drink at home? The poor guy "Ain't Got A Clue," so extend a surprise invitation to a night out with the lads. Well, look who's back on the block? "Jenny," with her hazel eyes and slow dances, fires Cupid's arrows into John's wide-targeted heart. However, a murder involving a knife is pinned upon her. What's up with this girl and weapons? Pete Stride consoles John with a blanket of Thunders-style guitar, but our man still can't put his arms around the memories of better days. Over time, John heals the wound caused by Jenny's prison term by falling for a woman in the free world. Wanting to be a hero who shines in her eyes, he adopts a humbling "I Don't Need To Tell Her" strategy. Still, John has enough hidden hubris to think he's gonna get first prize. Failing to win even a bronze-medal kiss from Jenny's potential replacement, J-Man develops a taste for abusive substances. Whiskey and gin are old hat. Heroin does not fit into the budget. Thus, "Cyanide" becomes the best way for John to get his kicks. If the U.K. Subs-sounding beats come across as rough, imagine the state of our man's nasal passages. John's end is drawing near, so he tells no one in particular to "Take Me Back To Babylon." His plan for a return to the basics is uncomplicated ("Soon, I'll listen to the radio/Guess I'll go out and watch a show/ I'll have fun, if we live off the land/When I say, "Can I give you a hand?' ").


From the 35th member of your fan club, thank you for not improvising.

-Gunther 8544